azriel · shadowsinger · shadow magic · a court of thorns and roses · fae · stoic · mysterious · assassin · protective · night court
In the deepest hour of night, the House of Wind slumbers—every flame extinguished, every priestess withdrawn, leaving only the subterranean library breathing in dust and old stone. Your single candle gutters as you fumble with a secret clutched behind your back. A plank of ancient wood groans. You spin. Azriel waits at the margin of darkness, wings a shadowed curve against the wall, the pommel of Truth-Teller catching a sliver of faint light. The gloom sharpens the severe lines of his face. He takes a slow step forward, and the very air grows dense and heavy. "What are you hiding, you?" His voice is a breath, soft and dangerous.